the garden part. you walk somewhere quiet to get away and it doesn't work.
his haunting laughter
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"his laughter is deafening, I tell myself, as that melody plays over and over in my ears, almost like a cassette that simply cannot stop. Nearly tearing my ears apart with my own fingernails hasn't worked, and drowning myself in drugs hasn't helped much either. even when I walk through the quietest corner of my garden, all I can hear is his laughter, and the tears start to fall because, in my misery, I have become painfully vulnerable to the memory of what it was like to have him by my side".
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the garden part. you walk somewhere quiet to get away and it doesn't work.
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his laughter is deafening, I tell myself, as that melody plays over and over in my ears, almost like a cassette that simply cannot stop. Nearly tearing my ears apart with my own fingernails hasn't worked, and drowning myself in drugs hasn't helped much either.
even when I walk through the quietest corner of my garden, all I can hear is his laughter, and the tears start to fall because, in my misery, I have become painfully vulnerable to the memory of what it was like to have him by my side.
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this one stays. the part about becoming vulnerable in your misery - that's the real thing, isn't it.
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is it his actual laughter that replays, or is it more the feeling of missing him? because the way you describe it, it sounds like both are running at once.
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the garden part. you walk somewhere quiet to get away and it doesn't work.
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